The Long Stare part 4
by PlaneJane8
Summary: What happens after Elizabeth leaves the ballroom


Elizabeth rested her head against the cold stone wall and wrestled her mind away from her disconcerting dance with Mr. Darcy. He was a proud, rich man, no doubt prone to bouts of inconstant, self-gratifying behavior, it shouldn't surprise her, that he might suddenly change his mind with regards to her. He'd been quick enough with his initial judgement about her, after all. But thinking him the type who was easily persuaded didn't sit well with her either. She must have endowed him with a sense of rectitude despite the obvious sins of pride in his demeanor.

She took a deep breath and gazed out into the inky darkness. She was barely able to see the ornate spire of Longbourne's folly that towered over the neatly arranged hedgerows of a the estate's garden maze. Elizabeth had gotten lost in it once; a long time ago when she was just a child and a family called the Rothchild's had lived there. She remembered that evening being very much like this one, unseasonably humid with a full moon. She had always felt strangely tempted under a the full moon. Tempted to do what exactly, she didn't know. Probably nothing more blasphemous than running across the grounds in her nightgown. Or perhaps pulling Lydia's hair just for fun. She gazed into the night sky and smiled, relishing the thought of doing bodily harm to her younger sister.

"Are you enjoying the stars Miss Bennett?"

Elizabeth started at the low voice and spun around to find Mr. Darcy standing in the archway. She wondered whether thinking of the man somehow conjured up his presence. And could he read minds as well? His keen glance was at times rather disconcerting. She hadn't yet decided what to make of those final poignant words, she hadn't yet decided what she thought of him, and now here he was and she was caught, and looking as flummoxed as a cornered fox. Her heart started thudding.

"I was." she stammered. She saw his blinking expression and realized how churlish she must have sounded and quickly corrected herself. "I mean, I am." Unconsciously she straightened. "You startled me."

He nodded at her explanation, "I'm sorry. I seem to be developing a bad habit of doing that."

Was that a partial smile? Elizabeth wondered. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off his cravat. It was beautifully tied.

"I came outside to get some fresh air," he said stepping up to the railing to view the gardens.

"It's rather stuffy inside," she found herself agreeing.

"Indeed."

It was just one word, but it lacked the usual bluff of his regular discourse and revealed to Elizabeth that he was a man, like any other, sometimes at odds with his obligations and duties.

Elizabeth remained glued to her spot. She couldn't decide whether he had come out on the patio in search of peace and quiet or whether it had served the more expedient purpose of escape. Elizabeth knew he could not be ignorant of the many sets of eyes that watched his every move. The ballroom was packed with scheming mothers, and for once she could safely assume that her own mother wouldn't be counted among them. She had already made her opinion of Darcy much too plain.

He turned towards her, "Come join me, Miss Bennett. I'm sure you know these gardens well and I could use a little conversation that doesn't centre upon a game of cards."

She hesitated, but he wasn't his usual austere self so she couldn't help a little teasing. She stepped up to the balustrade until her gaze was level with the shoulder seam on his jacket. "In my experience, conversations started over cards have often been the most entertaining."

"Have they?" He turned towards her with a speculative air, "Then I gather you have not had to play whist with the Hursts for an entire evening."

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from letting out an unladylike giggle. This time she knew she hadn't imagined the spark of wry humour in his eyes, or the corner of his mouth curling like a cat's tail.

"Well not an entire evening," she agreed trying to pry her attention away from it.

"-And probably not several evenings in a row," he added with a somber smile into the night.

"No."

After a moment he remarked, "I'm afraid Mr. Hurst's mother likes to talk of her physical ailments."

"Oh." She hid a smile. "How unfortunate." Poor man. She might actually begin to feel sorry for him.

He turned towards her once again. "It's a good thing that my conversations on the dance floor lately have been an entirely different matter."

Elizabeth blushed under his mention of it. She could feel him taking her measure and she wished she didn't care quite so much what his verdict would be.

"I suppose it is the music that adds an additional element of amusement," she suggested with a keen interest in turning the subject to a less personal one.

But Darcy was not to be thwarted.

"Perhaps." He allowed, "But to be truthful, I'm convinced it was a difference in the company."

Elizabeth's eyes were unwillingly drawn upward to meet his steady gaze and into the ensuing silence a wildly preposterous idea about Darcy's intentions towards her, began to sprout.

"You see Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth exclaimed with a cheerful trill meant to dispel her confusion and panic. "There is plenty of amusements to be had in the country, if you would only allow it to be so."

Mr. Darcy's steadfast gaze held a note of boyish curiosity that compelled Elizabeth to fill the silence. "Take the Longbourne maze, for example. When you came upon me, I was just reflecting on the time I got lost inside."

Mr. Darcy's gaze grew less studious. "That maze I see before me?" He looked down at the simple arrangement of boxwood hedges. "-The one that appears to mimic the pattern of a snail's shell?" He rested his elbow casually on the railing before considering her once again.

Elizabeth knew she wasn't imagining his lightly flirtatious manner and that, combined with his unexpected spark of humor and darkly intent gaze was wreaking havoc on her composure.

She braced herself before turning to face him. "I was eight. And harboring the impression that I was not alone!" she retorted with a smile. "I was a scared child. And it was at night! And I seem to recall that Harry Rothchild had just filled my head with gruesome tales of Longbourne ghosts."

"Longbourne has secrets? How intriguing."

"They do not bear repeating."

"Hmmm." He looked out over the garden again before looking back at her again. "Well alright then." He said, " I suppose I can forgive your lack of poise in those circumstances. But it is disappointing. I've come to think of you as very clear headed Miss Elizabeth."

Yes, she thought glumly, comparing me to my sisters, I must seem like the Clio of my time. Despite her earlier prejudices, she could admit that in consideration of Darcy's manly shoulders and strong chin, she rather wished he'd been more impressed with her elegant nose, or her elaborate coif. But perhaps that was the effects of the full moon, and its tendency towards planting inconceivable ideas in her head.

Aloud she said, "Yes. I have often been praised for my manly intellect."

A short silence followed her remark and by his expression it was clear she'd

momentarily baffled him. Or was it bemusement that now lit his eyes with fire?

"I don't believe I mentioned _manly_ intellect." Darcy said with a ponderous air, "But then you are so adept at willfully misunderstanding me."

Mr. Collin's sudden arrival spared Elizabeth from answering.

"Cousin. Your friend Charlotte has been looking for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Collins. Excuse me, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth curtsied, avoiding his gaze and hurried away before either man could stop her.

Elizabeth rested her head against the cold stone wall and wrestled her mind away from her disconcerting dance with Mr. Darcy. He was a proud, rich man, no doubt prone to bouts of inconstant, self-gratifying behavior, it shouldn't surprise her, that he might suddenly change his mind with regards to her. He'd been quick enough with his initial judgement about her, after all. But thinking him the type who was easily persuaded didn't sit well with her either. She must have endowed him with a sense of rectitude despite the obvious sins of pride in his demeanor.

She took a deep breath and gazed out into the inky darkness. She was barely able to see the ornate spire of Longbourne's folly that towered over the neatly arranged hedgerows of a the estate's garden maze. Elizabeth had gotten lost in it once; a long time ago when she was just a child and a family called the Rothchild's had lived there. She remembered that evening being very much like this one, unseasonably humid with a full moon. She had always felt strangely tempted under a the full moon. Tempted to do what exactly, she didn't know. Probably nothing more blasphemous than running across the grounds in her nightgown. Or perhaps pulling Lydia's hair just for fun. She gazed into the night sky and smiled, relishing the thought of doing bodily harm to her younger sister.

"Are you enjoying the stars Miss Bennett?"

Elizabeth started at the low voice and spun around to find Mr. Darcy standing in the archway. She wondered whether thinking of the man somehow conjured up his presence. And could he read minds as well? His keen glance was at times rather disconcerting. She hadn't yet decided what to make of those final poignant words, she hadn't yet decided what she thought of him, and now here he was and she was caught, and looking as flummoxed as a cornered fox. Her heart started thudding.

"I was." she stammered. She saw his blinking expression and realized how churlish she must have sounded and quickly corrected herself. "I mean, I am." Unconsciously she straightened. "You startled me."

He nodded at her explanation, "I'm sorry. I seem to be developing a bad habit of doing that."

Was that a partial smile? Elizabeth wondered. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off his cravat. It was beautifully tied.

"I came outside to get some fresh air," he said stepping up to the railing to view the gardens.

"It's rather stuffy inside," she found herself agreeing.

"Indeed."

It was just one word, but it lacked the usual bluff of his regular discourse and revealed to Elizabeth that he was a man, like any other, sometimes at odds with his obligations and duties.

Elizabeth remained glued to her spot. She couldn't decide whether he had come out on the patio in search of peace and quiet or whether it had served the more expedient purpose of escape. Elizabeth knew he could not be ignorant of the many sets of eyes that watched his every move. The ballroom was packed with scheming mothers, and for once she could safely assume that her own mother wouldn't be counted among them. She had already made her opinion of Darcy much too plain.

He turned towards her, "Come join me, Miss Bennett. I'm sure you know these gardens well and I could use a little conversation that doesn't centre upon a game of cards."

She hesitated, but he wasn't his usual austere self so she couldn't help a little teasing. She stepped up to the balustrade until her gaze was level with the shoulder seam on his jacket. "In my experience, conversations started over cards have often been the most entertaining."

"Have they?" He turned towards her with a speculative air, "Then I gather you have not had to play whist with the Hursts for an entire evening."

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from letting out an unladylike giggle. This time she knew she hadn't imagined the spark of wry humour in his eyes, or the corner of his mouth curling like a cat's tail.

"Well not an entire evening," she agreed trying to pry her attention away from it.

"-And probably not several evenings in a row," he added with a somber smile into the night.

"No."

After a moment he remarked, "I'm afraid Mr. Hurst's mother likes to talk of her physical ailments."

"Oh." She hid a smile. "How unfortunate." Poor man. She might actually begin to feel sorry for him.

He turned towards her once again. "It's a good thing that my conversations on the dance floor lately have been an entirely different matter."

Elizabeth blushed under his mention of it. She could feel him taking her measure and she wished she didn't care quite so much what his verdict would be.

"I suppose it is the music that adds an additional element of amusement," she suggested with a keen interest in turning the subject to a less personal one.

But Darcy was not to be thwarted.

"Perhaps." He allowed, "But to be truthful, I'm convinced it was a difference in the company."

Elizabeth's eyes were unwillingly drawn upward to meet his steady gaze and into the ensuing silence a wildly preposterous idea about Darcy's intentions towards her, began to sprout.

"You see Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth exclaimed with a cheerful trill meant to dispel her confusion and panic. "There is plenty of amusements to be had in the country, if you would only allow it to be so."

Mr. Darcy's steadfast gaze held a note of boyish curiosity that compelled Elizabeth to fill the silence. "Take the Longbourne maze, for example. When you came upon me, I was just reflecting on the time I got lost inside."

Mr. Darcy's gaze grew less studious. "That maze I see before me?" He looked down at the simple arrangement of boxwood hedges. "-The one that appears to mimic the pattern of a snail's shell?" He rested his elbow casually on the railing before considering her once again.

Elizabeth knew she wasn't imagining his lightly flirtatious manner and that, combined with his unexpected spark of humor and darkly intent gaze was wreaking havoc on her composure.

She braced herself before turning to face him. "I was eight. And harboring the impression that I was not alone!" she retorted with a smile. "I was a scared child. And it was at night! And I seem to recall that Harry Rothchild had just filled my head with gruesome tales of Longbourne ghosts."

"Longbourne has secrets? How intriguing."

"They do not bear repeating."

"Hmmm." He looked out over the garden again before looking back at her again. "Well alright then." He said, " I suppose I can forgive your lack of poise in those circumstances. But it is disappointing. I've come to think of you as very clear headed Miss Elizabeth."

Yes, she thought glumly, comparing me to my sisters, I must seem like the Clio of my time. Despite her earlier prejudices, she could admit that in consideration of Darcy's manly shoulders and strong chin, she rather wished he'd been more impressed with her elegant nose, or her elaborate coif. But perhaps that was the effects of the full moon, and its tendency towards planting inconceivable ideas in her head.

Aloud she said, "Yes. I have often been praised for my manly intellect."

A short silence followed her remark and by his expression it was clear she'd

momentarily baffled him. Or was it bemusement that now lit his eyes with fire?

"I don't believe I mentioned _manly_ intellect." Darcy said with a ponderous air, "But then you are so adept at willfully misunderstanding me."

Mr. Collin's sudden arrival spared Elizabeth from answering.

"Cousin. Your friend Charlotte has been looking for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Collins. Excuse me, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth curtsied, avoiding his gaze and hurried away before either man could stop her.


End file.
